Thana Mourningjay

I was unhappy, quite unhappy, that we were being dragged back into the battle upstairs. Nothing good was going on up there, and it wasn't near what I really wanted right now, which was to get out of here, preferably with Milo. I didn't have a lot of people I'd considered friends, or even that friendly, so I hoped it would work out well for us. Being in combat with those maniacs was not that.

My displeasure was unfortunately short lived however, as we didn't even make it back to twenty-five. As we approached the stairwell there several guards came down in a very poorly organized retreat. At first they panicked when they saw us, trying to reform before they realized who was at our back. Then they quickly made their way into the formation, slipping past we three who were leading.

As they fell back to tend to their wounds with whatever they had, be it magic or simple bandages another pair made their way down. It did not please me that I recognized both of them.

The brute from my floor, Crusher, was locked in combat with the head of the high security section of the prison, a formidable paladin by the name of Thorin. I could barely follow their quick blows, but it was clear they took very different approaches to fighting.

Thorin or Sir Thorin, as he was often referred to, was an exacting fighter, ducking, weaving, thrusting quickly and precisely. It was like watching art as his silver blade wove in and out. He wore more armor then most of the other guards, as his position allowed him to, and it too was cleaned to a shine. It was clear to see from the bruises and cuts on his face however that he'd taken several attacks already.

Crusher on the other hand seemed to be living up to his name. Each blow he struck was thunderous. They were fast, but without the flow of his opponent, more like someone trying to bash an opponent to bits. If I had to guess, he was overall the weaker fighter, and lacking armor didn't help.

Unfortunately for Sir Thorin, someone had cast some spells on Crusher. The paladin's blade bounced off of a shield of force, and the brute nearly got him, a blow only being parried away by a hair's breadth. It was clear that while the escaped prisoner had also taken wounds earlier, none he had seemed to be bleeding at the moment.

I let my minion move forward, trying to bring it around to strike at the berserker, or at least threaten his back. I was by default near the front, having been sort of herded by the soldiers behind. That was a bit of a risk, but it kept me from the middle of their midst, and Milo at my side.

As the fight continued the source of the buffing spells strode down the stairwell like he was on a brisk morning walk. He stood behind two of his bloated undead, with a man holding several wands to the side. Wands that probably came from either the guard rooms, or the bodies of dead guards.

“Oh Thana dear, there you are, and you kept my gift,” he said casually. “And look at this, with guards rather than killing them, what a change for you and your little friend.”

“Sheep-fucking whoreson!” I screamed, not even bothering to look back as I moved.

Milo was with me, not having missed what the man had done. In less than ten seconds he'd completely burned our chances at hiding among the guards before making our escape. There was a snide smile on Opcan's face as we moved, the battle between the paladin and his lackey was between the two groups, and it was clear what he expected.

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We didn't have a choice, and both of us knew it. Trying to lie at this point and return would just get us interrogated under truth magic, then promptly killed. That left one route to survival. While Milo covered me, my skeleton switched targets, threatening the holy warrior instead of the brute. I began to chant and focus.

The paladin was having none of it, and his backstroke ground the skeleton against the wall. It was still functioning, but only barely. He then went on the defensive as he was now truly surrounded.

A ray of negative energy shot forth from my hands, striking the back of the paladin's armor. It didn't do any damage, and wasn't designed to. Instead the next time he clashed with Crusher it was clear that his physical strength was lesser, the blow nearly taking the sword from his hand even through his expert parry.

Behind I heard the fresh and injured guards begin moving.

“Oh dear, that's far too many, and now that my cute little friend is out of the way...” the spellcaster snapped out a series of syllables and pointed, something resembling a yellow spark flying from his finger and down the hallway in an arc.

I was not particularly well versed in magic, and didn't need to be to recognize that spell when it went off. The blast of hot air and *THOOM*, followed by the brilliant red and yellow flash screamed what it was. A few of the guards screamed, either having survived the fireball, or been just outside its range as it consumed the others.

“NO!” the leader screamed, his head turning slightly towards his men.

I didn't know if it was good or bad that Thorin fell in that moment. His distraction was the only thing Crusher needed to finally land true, his looted weapon managing to sweep and split the knight's head from his body. It tumbled through the air as his body turned, spurting blood in a fountain, that of course coated me in red.

The hot splash of the paladin's life-blood was another horrible layer on a day that had for a few moments looked like it might just be positive in some small way. It joined the cloying black goo, the layers of sweat, and whatever oil they used to keep the rust off of the chainmail here, which I was fairly sure was rancid.

Upon seeing their leader fall, the last of the guards broke and ran. Without him they had nothing that could stand against the riot, not in their state. I even heard weapons strike the ground, dropped from hands in terror and haste.

“After them,” Opcan casually said, motioning. Several of his men surged forward in pursuit, past us and the dead, and onward after their prey.

“Now, what was that you were calling me? After I took the time to make sure you'd get out of my spell none the less?” The mage said as he sauntered forwards.

I had to spit out a bit of metallic fluid before answering. “Perhaps I was a bit rude. I wasn't expecting you to destroy our current escape plan, my apologies.”

“Understandable, I don't suppose you'd reconsider joining our little brigade?” He smiled at me again, looking like the cat who'd caught the canary.

“If I say no are you going to kill me?” I asked.

“You? No, of course not. Your friend...” He let it hang in the air, surrounded by his people as he was.

I looked at Milo and he frowned. “Work together until we get out of this mess?” He asked, looking for details.

“Just so, I will expect you to pull your weight of course, and follow my directions,” the sorcerer said.

Milo Greyson

“We're out of options kid,” I said, not liking the situation, but I didn't want to die, and I certainly couldn't fight everyone here. One way or another we were going to have to deal with the fact that the other staff now knew we were in no way on their side.

“Fine,” she said. “Sounds like we're in.” She sounded furious as she turned, moving over to the skeleton and reaching out to touch it.

The undead there was falling to bits, so many of its bones shattered and splintered that it was a wonder it could even move. As her hand sat upon it though bits and pieces moved back into place, others reformed. It wasn't immediate, but it was working.

“I've been having to hold some of my minions in reserve due to damage; are you able to repair them too?” Opcan asked her, eyes hungry as he watched what she was doing.

Either she didn't know or didn't care that she was showing him she was even more valuable than he'd known. There was also the possibility that she did know, and was showing him for just that reason. The man was clearly the leader of this bunch, and having his favor would go a long way to getting us out. His undead would also be good soldiers the next time we clashed with the guards, because we were going to be doing that.

I sadly was put to work letting loose those on this floor who'd survived, including the man who I'd questioned less than an hour ago. He chuckled the whole time I was unlocking his cell. I wasn't the only one as many sets of keys had been gathered by the riot, we all knew we needed to move fast, and to move with as many people as we could get.

“Looks like my prayers were answered,” the man said as I opened the door.

“Lot of that going around today. See if you can find a weapon; I doubt we'll be here much longer.”